Grateful Dean

The Days Between during Jerry Week have been full of incredibly mixed emotions that reside on completely opposite ends of the psychological spectrum for 20 years now. We all get out as much as we can and listen to other musicians honor the one that we collectively honor most. While there are many out there that have made a great life for themselves paying tribute to Garcia, and I enjoy hearing them, they all fall flat for me emotionally. Every single one of them… No exceptions… While plenty of people have learned to play the notes, Garcia was so much more than his notes. Many have had Luthiers craft equipment at great expense to duplicate his sound, yet his sound remains unduplicated. People have created guitars made of the same wood, same hardware, same shape, same everything… Ultimately the body that matters most doesn’t belong to the guitar but the individual that it’s strapped against. The sound that’s created really begins in the Soul of the one who plays it, somewhere well below, or above, the surface. A place that doesn’t succumb to the influence of the intellect but, when used properly, utilizes the intellect as a servant to the sound within them instead of the other way around. Nobody can practice that and it can’t be copied. Those that have learned to play like Garcia utilized the intellect attempting to learn or decipher what came from the Soul of Garcia. While entertaining, it will always be missing the most vital component of the entire process… The heart through which it originally came… Those of us that were fortunate enough to exist and experience Garcia experienced a gift that was given out only once in history. The gift that was Garcia has enabled generations of artists to feed their families by providing people with a small glimpse into what the experience was like. I appreciate their efforts…

Unfortunately, there’s too many things that just can’t be copied… You know who can walk into a room in sweat pants and some orthopedic shoes and be the baddest brother in the room? Only Garcia… You know who could completely alter the vibrational character and temperature of a place just by stepping into it and do so powerfully enough that you could sense it even if your back was turned? Only Garcia… You know who can sing a line about getting across a River with the depth of emotion and expression of someone that seems to know that everything that’s great and true in life is on the other side of that lazy river? You know who can pull that off with the sincerity of Mother Teresa talking about the poor? Only Garcia… You know who can wear a Members Only jacket to Disney World on a 95 degree day and still be the coolest cat in the whole damn park??? Only Garcia… You know who can get deep into a solo, hitting tons of notes and keep coming across a familiar one while passing through all of them again and again, like somebody looking through a bag of keys, until he finally pulls that familiar note out of the mix and grabs onto it like a Magician pulling a rabbit out of his hat as he takes the note that seemed to be hiding and blasts it on full display and glory for the world to hear? Only Garcia… You know who could stand totally unmoved while a hurricane of sound spun around him furiously and be completely uninfluenced or pressured by it in any way, like an anchor that holds a mighty ship in place during the most ferocious of storms? Only Garcia… You know who had an innately gifted internal metronome that kept a time that only he could keep, just a fragment behind conventional expectation, and could elaborately decorate with his strings a musical platform from which his impending lyric would be presented upon? Only Garcia… You know who could reach me, personally, with all of it causing intense introspection and development, breaking down walls that could no longer stand if I was to become who and what I was called to become in this life, opening doors for the gifts to come shining through and be expressed and doing it all without even trying? Only Garcia…

I understand the challenges in different ways of different art forms much the same way. I understand, through writing, that I hope to help many of US say what we would say if we only knew how to say it. Robert Hunter has done that for all of US for a long time… While I’m well aware that I’m not worthy of sharpening pencils for people like Robert Hunter or the late great, Hunter S. Thompson, I still have to give it my sincerest efforts. I usually don’t like anything I write while I’m writing it because the bar that’s set before us is much too high to think of getting close to, let alone over. Often times, the things I think of throwing out altogether end up being the most popular things. The things I like most usually fall flat… That being said, in The Days Between I share with you one of my favorite pieces(uh Oh), Looking For The Silver Lining…

Been looking for The Silver Lining but this one seems all gray
Nothing’s been the same since the night you went away
The Story Teller makes no choice, that’s what you always said
It’s funny that we all found Life amongst The Grateful Dead
The wrinkled eyes of Heaven know this day as if by heart
The tears through years of mourning that have torn our world apart
You’re the one that brought The Treasure and Grabbed Magic from the air
Everyone craved The Golden Eggs but The Goose that left them there
The blistered hands of time still turn the Crank that runs The Wheel
The cards all come back empty every time we get The Deal
Mercy wrote a letter, sent to Death by Standard Mail
The message came back, “Sorry but No Mercy is for Sale”
My face is callused from the salted water my Eyes have shed
I can’t get back to Tennessee and can’t find my friend Jed
I can’t believe twenty have passed since your Graduation Day
Still broken vans with broken plans like dogs that went astray
Another Summer passes by another Winter Near
And there remains the lullaby our ears still long to hear
Your tone preserved in ones and zeros, we turn another page
Where softly grows the silent fire that turns to full grown rage
Days are still found Dazing in The Days that Lie Between
And thoughts churn in our minds yet we can’t figure what they mean
To hear a few more notes from you would cure this inward drought
In the spaces in between each one We figured the whole thing out
My thoughts and days are like the style of playing you were usin’
Moments of intense clarity seem to arise from complete confusion
In my head, I see your frame, your chin pinned to your chest
Like you’re looking into your own heart and pulling out what’s best
I vividly hear the music build like champagne when you shake it
You took your time getting to the Mic we all wondered if you’d make it
But just as Springtime turns to Heat and Heat then turns to Cold
The only place we find Silver now is where there once was gold
With thoughts of you that never die and No replacement near
We celebrate the life you gave to all of US every year
Your Soulful Sound to China Cats to Mission in The Rain
We’ll cherish what you gave to US until we meet again…

Love y’all! See ya out there somewhere soon… I’m writing from a somewhat broken place today… I imagine that might show…

Dead To The Core,

Dean Sottile (pronounced So Tilly)